


Lorelai Gilmore - This is Your Life

by emmettcadrian



Category: Gilmore Girls
Genre: 6 x 09, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Season/Series 06
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-09
Updated: 2018-05-25
Packaged: 2019-02-12 13:51:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12960702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmettcadrian/pseuds/emmettcadrian
Summary: An AU of what should have happened, post 6x09. What would have happened if Rory changed university? What if Rory never took Logan back? What if she loved someone else? And what about Jess, the ever-unanswered question in her life?





	1. Prologue (Fall, 2016)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Possible spoilers for the revival.

_**Rory, I'm sorry to have missed your call.** _

Lorelai Leigh Gilmore, third of her name - but first in so many other things - sat at her grandfather's desk in utter silence. 

_**Yes, I am in Nantucket, and yes, the house is empty, and yes, you can stay there.**_

When Rory had walked into her grandfather's study; placing her bag on his desk with a quiet thud, had been unnerved by the stillness of the room. A quick glance of her portrait had reminded her that she was, indeed, in the right place, and was a reminder of her own quiet courage. During Richard's funeral, she'd told herself that she would never be able to walk through the Gilmore's Hartford house ever again; not without her mother as a guide, and not without a tear to her eye. But Lorelai was in California, and though a tear came to her eye as she walked herself through the house, Rory felt herself remembering those Friday night dinners: baking a pizza, speed-eating with her mother before they both rushed off for their dates, and even that night that the four Gilmores had fought like cats and dogs. 

Though she had told herself that she would never be comfortable in the house without her grandfather, Rory found herself opening the door to his study with ease, and pictured him sitting there, working through some case or another, and pausing his efforts, would look up to give her a quiet, gentle smile. Those small memories had brought a tear to her eye, and a watery smile to her face, but she found herself able to cross the room with little to no fear of being a stranger; an interloper, someone who was sitting where they oughtn't be. Another quick glance up at her portrait, and a smile; the thought of her wizened grandfather smiling encouragingly at her, Rory opened her bag and withdrew her laptop. 

Off she went, typing steadily.


	2. I Don't Want Your Balalaikas, Baby (2005)

_"The Prodigal Daughter Returns"_

_[6x09]_

_Lorelai : Yes, hello?_  
  
_Rory:_ (on the phone) _Mom?_  
  
_Lorelai : Rory!?_  
  
_Rory:_ (on the phone) _I got a job!_  
  
_Lorelai : What? Where?_  
  
_Rory: At the Stamford Gazette. It pays less than I'll spend on gas to get there, but it's a job! A writing job._  
  
_Lorelai: Yes!_

 

"But it's a job! A writing job!"

"Yes!"

"And I'm-"

"Yes?"

 _I'm going back to Yale_.

"I-"

"Rory? You there?" Lorelai sounded concerned.   
  
_I'm going back to school._

"- here," Rory said, phone clamped to her ear, "I'm here."

"You've got a job? And you're-" Lorelai audibly hesitated, hedging her words, "- going back to school?"

_This isn't you, Rory!_

"Yeah," she replied, lamely, "I'm going back to school, too."

"Yes!"

_I'm going back to Yale._

"Are you home?" Rory asked her mother.

"I am! I'm here. Come back, babe. Come home. I'm here. We'll celebrate."

"I've gotta get my stuff from Lane's, but I'll be over as soon as I can," Rory promised.

"I'll be waiting up," Lorelai said, her warm words a promise, "I promise I'll be up."

"See you when I can," Rory, too, promised, "I love you, Mom."

"Love you too, Rory."

The phone clicked, and Lorelai Gilmore rang off; Rory Gilmore holding her phone to her ear as if her life depended upon it. And perhaps it did - hearing her mother's voice, so full of excitement and hope and joy at sharing her daughter's life again had sparked something deep within Rory. Something she hadn't felt in the months she had been idle in the poolhouse. Something she had  _missed_. Something she  _needed_ to live her colourful life to the fullest. Something that she  _depended_ on to feel safe and sane and happy. It made Rory want to sing aloud and even scream with joy. Pressing her foot to the accelerator and laying it near flat seemed the next best thing: speeding along the dark road back to Stars Hollow - to home, to her mother - filled her with an indescribable happiness. 

_And yet._

Yale. An Ivy League university. Her reason for moving to Chilton - and though the goal had been Harvard at the time, she'd worked just as hard (if not harder) in order to prove that she was the perfect choice for Yale, too - and the reason for having worked hard for eighteen years of her life. The reason for so many late nights and long study sessions and days of blinking back tears of exhaustion in order to memorise chapter after chapter... but the weight of the expectations Rory had successfully shed those months ago were  _already_ creeping back, and she wasn't even officially re-registered at her college. She'd been convinced that ringing the Dean and begging the Admissions Office to take her back was the  _only_ thing that mattered to her, and was the  _only_ thing that would bring back the happiness and contentment Rory knew that she had been missing for half a year. Happiness and contentment that Rory  _knew_ came from academic success. 

_And so._

"I'm not," she muttered aloud, fingers drumming on the steering wheel, "I'm not going back to Yale."

The words, muttered aloud again - once before the mirror in the car before she announced it to her mother so many months ago, and once again in the dark of her car as she sped along the back road of Hartford towards Stars Hollow - no longer weighed heavy on her chest. She hadn't lied to Lorelei - she  _was_ going to go to work for the Stamford Gazette, and she  _was_ going to return to college - but which college? And for how long? As she was certain, in the moment she braked hard, and performed an _extremely_ illegal U-turn in the middle of the road before beginning the (somewhat speedy) journey back to New Haven was that, no matter what, she would never step into the halls of Yale ever again.

"I'm not going back," she looked up, looking at herself in the rearview mirror, "I'm not going back to Yale University."


	3. The Family Serious

A whoop, a cry of joy, and a celebratory dance around the lounge room, kitchen, and stairs was not enough: Lorelai Gilmore was celebrating the return of her prodigal daughter, and such an occasion called for more than an impromptu waltz around the house, watched from the landing by a bemused Paul Anka. Lorelai had thrown her phone down in happiness, waving her hands above her head and whooping for joy, which had been  _way_ louder than she had intended, because Babette had come a-wandering over to see if she'd possibly sat down to watch  _Footloose_ again, where she found the teary Lorelei laughing into a pillow on the floor.

_Rory's coming home!_

Babette had helped her celebrated, and tidy the mess of the lounge room while they chatted about Rory's imminent return to Stars Hollow. They'd had some coffee and bourbon, talking about the years gone by: Rory as a little girl making blanket forts in the kitchen; Rory playing with Cinnamon, and any other memory of their darling girl. Finally, Babette had said goodnight, and disappeared next door as Lorelei thought fondly of her daughter, wondering when she'd hear the honk of the horn on Rory's Prius, and find her little girl standing before her.

It was there, slumped across the table and an assortment of biscuits and magazines that Lorelai fell asleep, waiting for the horn and the patter of footsteps, and it was there that she woke to an empty house. Slightly concerned, but not at all worried, Lorelei reached for her phone - well, spent several minutes rummaging through the kitchen draws, dirty laundry pile, and tea bag tin - and dialled her daughter; heart leaping in happiness at the sound of Rory's voice. 

"Mom-"

"Hey, hon, what's up?"

"I-"

"Things are fine?"

"What?"

"You're fine? Things are fine? I assume you've got a lot to do before you get ready to go back to school," Lorelai paused, chewing on her fingertip, "You're still going back, right?"

"No, I'm. Of course. Of course I'm still going back. I just."

"Just what?"

"I'm not-"

"Not  _what?"_

"I'm not going to Yale, I-"

"Rory," her mother's tone changed; sounding concerned, "You're going back, yes? To school? Because I don't think-"

"Mom! I'm going to school! I'm just-"

"Just what?"

"I'm not-"

"Not what?!"

"I'm not going to Yale, but I'm going to school."

Silence. Lorelai Victoria Gilmore was silent, her breathing slightly quickened.

"I've decided not to return to Yale. But I'm still going to school."

"You're not-? Okay, um," Lorelai cleared her throat, "What're you doing? What's going on?"

"I'm standing in the admissions hall at Southern Connecticut State."

" ... I see."

"And I'm holding an admissions form, as well as a credit transfer."

" ... I see?"

"-a  _completed_ admissions form, and a  _signed_ and  _stamped_ credits transfer."

"I'm not blind, Rory, but I do have cataracts for this conversation."

"I'm changing schools, Mom," Rory said, finally, "I'm not going back to Yale, but I'm changing to Southern Connecticut State."

"Oh," Lorelai exhaled a gust of air, "I see."

"You see?"

"Yeah, babe, I see," Lorelai nodded, her hand to her head. "I see it clearly now the rain has gone."

"Okay."

"Okay."

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"What do you think?"

"What do I think about what?"

"This," Rory said, indicating to the hall around her, before she realised she was on the phone and her mother couldn't see the gesture, "Me, changing."

"What do I think about you changing?"

"Yeah. Me, changing."

"Changing from Yale to Southern Connecticut State."

"Yes."

"What do I think-"

"You think, yes."

"-about you changing?"

"Yes. Me, changing."

"It certainly sounds like it's happening."

"Mom."

"Honey, I'm ecstatic that you've found a job, and that you've decided to return to college," Lorelai began, "I'd be happy if you chose to return to Yale, or if you enrolled at SCSU."

Silence.

"That's not what you wanted to hear, right?"

"No, no," Rory tucked her hair behind her ears, "I'm happy you're happy for me. I just. I don't know. I wondered if you were okay with the whole-"

"The whole what?"

"-the whole me _not_ returning to an Ivy League college, and choosing Connecticut State over it."

"Well-"

"I mean, remember. Harvard was my goal for so many years. And then - boom! It wasn't Harvard, it was Yale. And then, for a while no more Yale," Rory absently chewed on her fingernail, before quickly withdrawing it with a dirty glance at her own hand.

"So-?"

"Well, I just want to know what you think."

"What  _I_ think?"

"What  _you  _think, mom."

"Well," Lorelai paused, "What do you think?"

"I asked you _first_."

"And I asked you second."

"Mom,  _please_."

"I know, I know. I just-" Lorelai sighed, "I'm happy. I'm happy - more than happy; utterly delirious, actually - at the thought of you returning to college. I've been hoping that you'd change your mind; throw off the self-applied shackles of Emily and Richard, and return to your studies. I just-"

"You just what?"

"Is this what you want?"

"What I want? I thought you wanted me to return to school."

"I do, babe, I want you to. More than anything. I've been hoping and dreaming that you'd pull yourself out of your slump, and return to school, but I want it to be because you know that you're supposed to be there. Not supposed to, like you have to be there, but supposed to because you should be because it's what you want and what I want and what you need and the best thing for you and-"

"Okay, okay," Rory cut through her mum's diatribe before Lorelei ran out of breath and passed out on the couch, "I get it. And I get you. It's what I want, and what you want, and what I need - I was just asking about the school. About-about Southern Connecticut. Do you think- I mean, is it okay? That I'm not going back to Yale?"

"It's okay if you're okay, sweetie," Lorelai said, "I'm happy you're going to back to school, whichever you've chosen."

"Okay."

"So, what do you think of Southern Connecticut so far?" Lorelai changed the subject, hoping to distract Rory from the thought of Emily and Richard.

"Well, it's still big. Not as big as Yale, mind you-"

"Nothing's a big as Yale."

"Right. But the buildings are still beautiful and the grounds are well kept. And the men's gymnastics team were the national champions in 1976."

"Because male sports has always been the make-or-break of any college you've considered."

"Of course. Where would my education be without men performing pirouettes?"

"That's ballet."

"Oh, right." Rory paused, kicking as the carpet, "So, what do you think?"

"What do I think?" 

"Yeah. What do you think?"

"I'm disappointed that you've yet to remember the basics of ballet, but I'm pleased that gymnastics is, as always, at the forefront of your athletic brain."

"Thank for noticing," Rory smiled, "But I meant about changing schools?"

"Why change?"

"Huh?"

"Is there any reason you're changing schools?" Lorelai asked as gently as possible, hoping not to spook her daughter.

"What do you mean?"

"You're going back, which is great. Amazing, actually. Fantastic and fabulous, but. Why not just return to Yale?"

_I'm not going back to Yale._

"I'm-," Rory paused, glancing up at the blue and white SCSU banner; tracing the corinth pillars with her eyes, "I'm not Yale."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm not Yale, Mom. I'm not-," Rory kicked at the carpet, "I'm not an Ivy League. I'm not prestige. I'm not class, or money, or stealing boats, or-or-"

"-getting drunk and crying because some boy doesn't like you?"

"-some  _rich_ boy who didn't care enough to try to talk me through any of this."

"I'm sure Logan tried, hon-"

"No," Rory spoke firmly, "He never did. He said 'whatever you want to do,' and 'whatever you choose,' and that's not what I needed."

"No?"

"No. I  _needed_ to be told to stay in school. I  _needed_ to be kept there, guided by sense and reason and a love of my academic prowess. I  _needed_ \- well, I  _needed_ -"

_Jess._

The thought of her old boyfriend flooded her mind, and Rory almost said his name aloud. She wondered how Lorelai would feel, knowing that it had been Jess: hell-raiser, rule-breaker, gnome-stealing  _Jess_ , to set her straight, when even Lorelei _herself_  couldn't convince her daughter to return to college. Rory swallowed, kicking at the faded blue carpeting of the SCSU administration hall, wondering how she'd explain that moment, that single moment where everything finally fell away, and she saw how she looked to other people - to the people who cared about her, and wanted her to succeed: her mother, and Luke, and Paris, and Lane, and Richard and Emily. She _finally_ saw herself in the eyes of Jess Mariano, in the way he looked at her that night in the pub; deep eyes full of disappointment and dark surprise, staring at her like he didn't know her, like he hadn't _loved_ her -

Rory felt that blossom of heat erupt in her chest, all over again, and swallowed heavily. 

"- _m_ _e_ ," Lorelai had apparently finished; interrupting her flow of thoughts, " _You_ needed  _me_."

 _Jess._ Rory cleared her throat, glancing around the hall in the hopes that no one had seen, or could the see, the tears that had formed in her blue eyes. 

"Yeah, Mom," she said, clearing her throat, " _You_. I  _needed_ you; sitting on that chair at the bakery, telling me I had to stay and reminding me about my future."

At this Rory paused, staring up at the white ceiling, still picturing Jess and his confused disappointment. "I need you telling me that I had be planning and preparing for this my whole life, and that one person needn't keep me down, and that Mitchum Huntzberger was one guy, and that it's silly to base my whole future on the simple opinion of only guy who didn't even really matter to me; he was Logan's father, and I wanted Logan to like me, and therefore Mitchum, and the whole debacle was crazy, and **_why the hell did you steal a yacht, anyway_**?!"

Lorelai let out a laugh at the word  _yacht_ ; her daughter's impersonation of her impeccable as always, and leaned back into the couch, happier than ever that it all seemed to be settling back into routine between them. It was as if the past months had never even happened; the bad blood between them erased by their banter and happy laughter. She rubbed her head - an aching back and neck the prize for sleeping at the kitchen table again - and sighed in happiness.

"I'm sorry I interrupted you, Rory."

"It's okay. I was done, anyway."

"We can talk about it, you know."

"About?"

"The Logan thing - if you want," Lorelai added quickly, "But only if you want."

"Thanks, Mom," Rory said, feeling lighter than she had in months, "I promise I'll be home soon. I just want to take another tour of the lecture halls, and then I'm going to see Paris about renting her and Doyle's spare room. She told me that it was free, but I'm going to swing by and check, and then I'll be home."

"Can't wait."

"Neither can I."

"Love you, Mom."

"Love you too, Rory."

 

* * *

 

"So."

"So."

"Here we are."

"Here. We are."

"Dinner."

"Dinner."

"At the Gilmore's."

"At the Gilmore's."

"So."

"We've been here before."

"It does look familiar."

"Dinner, the house. Oh, look, the doorbell."

"There it is."

"...you going to ring it, or-?"

"Maybe."

"Maybe?"

"Soon."

"Soon?"

"Soon-ish," Rory said, half-shrugging, "I'll get there."

"When?" Lorelai asked, cocking her head.

"Soon-ish." Rory re-iterated, glancing down at the doorbell, and (Lorelai would swear) shuddered.

"It's okay, hon," Lorelai said, putting a hand on the small of her daughter's back, "You're allowed to be nervous."

"Nervous? I'm not nervous," Rory said nervously, sounding thoroughly nervous.

"You can be nervous, sweets. It's, well. It's a hard thing you're doing."

"But it's not."

"What?"

"It's not."

"What's not?"

"This," Rory indicated, "Us. Me, here, telling my grandparents that I'm changing schools. It's not difficult - not at all. In fact, it's the easiest thing in the world. I'm here, telling my parents some really amazing news. i'm returning to school after taking four months off, and. Getting my life back on track. And. And it's good. It's happy. It's the best frigging thing they've ever heard, and they should be happy. They should be over the moon. They're the cow in Hey Diddle Diddle, and it's really good news!"

"But-"

"But it's  _not_ ," Rory shook her head, and broke away from her mother, "It's  _not_ good news. It's not going to be good news. Not to  _them_ , anyway. They're unhappy, or they're going to be, I just know it. I'm returning to school, sure, but it's not the  _right_ school, not according to them and their stupid society rules and their idiotic beliefs and- and-"

"And?"

"They're going to  _hate_ it. They're going to hate _me_ , and I'm not doing anything  _wrong_. I'm doing everything right, and they're going to hate it!"

"Rory, babe, it's  _okay_ ," Lorelai stepped up to her daughter and enfolded her in a tight hug, "It's going to be okay. We're here, and they're here, and we're going to tell them, and if they can't handle it, well, it's still going to be okay."

"Will it?"

" _Yes_ ," Lorelai pressed her cheek to the crown of her daughter's head, " _Of course_ it'll be okay. I'm here, with you and for you, and I'm so proud of you and everything you're doing, and if they can't handle it, well, they can just. Go to hell."

"I'll order the hand basket," Rory's reply was muffled, but there was an inflection of laughter in her voice.

"Ready to ring the bell?"

"I'm ready," Rory sighed, reaching for the doorbell, "Or, at least, I'll pretend to be."

 

**[Ding Dong]**

 

The door opened, and a timid-looking maid peeked through the crack in the front door. She sized up the two women, decided that they were not a threat - or much of one, anyway - and breathed an audible sigh of relief as she opened the door wider, delivering a timid smile and a small curtsey to Lorelai and Rory, who shared a minuscule glance and decided to the return the smile with two wide beams, trying to reassure the obviously frightened young woman.

"Good evening," she said, smiling back.

"Hey there," Lorelai smiled again, "We're the daughter and the granddaughter."

"I-. Of course. Please come in," the maid stepped back, allowing Lorelai and Rory access to the foyer.

"Thank-you," Lorelei said, ushering Rory inside, "Do we go through to the lounge?"

"I-. Yes. Of course. Just- just through," the maid said, holding out a hand, "Coats, first?"

"Yes, please," Rory said, peeling off her coat, "Thank-you, uh-?"

"Oh-, I. Maryanne," Maryanne said, smiling, "I'm Maryanne."

"Thank-you, Maryanne," Rory said, "We'll go through."

"Now," Lorelai muttered, following Rory through into the lounge, "Just stick to the facts, say it quick, and just remember: I'm here."

"Will do," Rory muttered back, taking a deep breath as they passed into the lounge, and found themselves standing before Richard and Emily Gilmore; both sitting on opposite sides of the coffee table, nursing, respectively, a white wine and a whiskey. Both of them were talking softly, and at the sound of the doorbell seemed to have stirred to attention, and were waiting for the girls to pass through the foyer and hall, and into the belly of the beast, so to speak. Seeming resplendent, if slightly put off at the memory of the last time she and Rory spoke, Emily brush a non-existent piece of lint from her skirt and stood up, placing her wine down on a coaster.

"Rory! Lorelai ! It's good to see you!" She brushed a kiss over her daughter's cheek, and petted Rory's arm, "Please, come and sit down, and I'll bring you both a drink."

"Hey, Mom."

"Thanks, Grandma. Hello, Grandpa," Rory said, smiling across at her grandfather.

"Hello there, Rory," Richard returned the smile and climbed to his feet, folding Rory in a one-armed hug as she manoeuvred the coffee table to hug him hello and to take a place beside him on the white lounge. There, Emily presented her with a wine spritzer in a crystal glass, while Lorelei sat directly opposite her daughter, already nursing a martini with a twist. Seeing as her guests had drinks, had their their hellos, and had settled suitably, Emily returned to her place, and picked up her own drink.

"So, how have you both been?" Emily asked, "What's been happening?"

Lorelai and Rory exchanged a glance.

 _Now?_ Lorelei asked.

 _Now? No. Not yet_. Rory replied. 

"Nothing much, really," Lorelei said, nodding at her daughter, "The Inn is busy, I'm busy. Everything's good."

"That's good," Emily said, between sipping her wine, "And you, Rory?"

Three pairs of eyes swivelled her way. Rory suddenly felt very hot, and very small. She locked eyes with Lorelai .

 _I'm going in_.

_I'm right here, babe._

"Actually, I-" she cleared her throat, "I have some news."

"Ooh, news," Emily gushed, putting down her drink, "Do you hear that, Richard? Rory has news for us."

"I heard something of the sort," Richard replied, leaning forward and placing his own drink on the coffee table, "Do tell."

"Well," Rory began, crossing her legs, "I've decided to return to school."

"What?!" Emily leapt from her place, "What?! This is wonderful! Richard!"

"Yes!" Richard, too, leapt from his place, and clapped his hands together, "This is absolutely wonderful!"

"Yes, I know-," Rory said, but was cut off.

"You're going back to school! This is fantastic!" Emily continued to celebrate, clapping her hands.

"Back to Yale! I'm so pleased!" Richard chimed in, reaching out to pet her on the shoulder.

"Actually, I-" Rory tried again.

"We're so pleased," Emily gushed, clapping her hands, "We're just sorry we didn't try to get you back sooner."

"Or help _me_ get her back sooner," Lorelei chimed in, and Emily blinked at her.

"Of course. Of course," she said, dismissively, but broke into another smile as she looked over at her granddaughter, "But we're just so  _pleased_."

"It's wonderful news," Richard said, jovially, smiling at her, "This odd slump can't have lasted too much longer. You need to be back in those hallowed halls, exercising your brain and solving the energy crisis!"

"Energy crisis, Richard?"

"It's an expression, Emily."

"I know that, Richard, but-"

"She's going on to do great things," Richard explained, gesturing with his Scotch, "That's all I meant."

"Actually, I'm-"

"And this time," Emily said, sternly, her voice rising, "We will not let those  _awful_ Huntzbergers bring you down so low again."

"The  _nerve_ of that man-" Richard began, his brows drawing down in consternation.

"FIRE!" Lorelai exclaimed, "FIRE!"

"What is it, Lorelai ?"

"Please don't shout 'fire!' like that again, Lorelai , lest any of your mother's maids think that there is an _actual_ fire-"

"I just needed your attention, Mom, Dad-" Lorelai began, trying to help Rory out, "- because there's more."

"More?" Emily said, absently, "Oh, of course."

Richard and Emily sat down, both excited. 

"Well," Rory began, trying to stop her trembling, "Yes, I'm going back to school-"

"Back to Yale!" Richard sang out, "I'm so happy!"

"Me too!" Emily crowed, "Oh, me too!"

"-but I'm _not_ going to Yale."

Silence.

"What?" Richard asked, looking dumbfounded.

"What?" Emily asked, looking dumbstruck.

"I'm not going back to Yale," Rory repeated, "I'm going back to school, but I'm not returning to Yale."

Silence.

Never-ending silence.

An utter wall of silence; so loud it was almost deafening.

Rory swallowed, looking between Richard and Emily, and felt herself wilt beneath their shocked looks.

"What did you just say?" Richard said, quietly.

"I said-," Rory took a breath, "I said that I'm not returning to Yale."

"I-" Emily began.

"I know what you just said-," Richard interrupted, clasping his hands, "I just wanted to know what you just said."

"I said-" Rory tried again, "I'm not-"

"She said that she's not going to Yale, Dad," Lorelai jumped in, "You can hear her just fine."

"I know that, Lorelai," Richard said, sternly, "I just wanted to know that I'd heard her right."

"Well, you did."

"What does this mean?" Emily asked, looking between Richard, Lorelei, and Rory.

"It means that-," Lorelai began.

"- it means that I'm not returning to Yale, but I _am_ going back to school. To Southern Connecticut State, actually. Which might not be an Ivy League, or one of the oldest colleges in America, but it is  _still_ a fantastic school. There's great classes, and a fantastic paper, and the men's gymnastics team were champions in the 80s-"

"-70s."

"70s, right," Rory sighed, drawing another deep breath. "I'm  _happy_ to be going there. I'm going back to school - and one that doesn't cost as much, so that should be fine. You won't have to pay as much - if you're still happy to help me out, which I would still be grateful for. I'm not saying you have to, of course-  but I'm still happy to do the Friday dinners in exchange for financial aid. I just -,"

Rory paused, looking from her grandmother to her grandfather. She still trembled, but found herself feeling hopeful.This was what she had been nervous about.This was what she had rehearsed in the car home to Stars Hollow, and in the car on the way over. 

"I wasn't happy, Grandma, Grandpa. I wasn't so happy in my last few weeks at Yale. I was upset, and confused, and seriously doubting myself. But last night, I-"

"You what, hon?" Lorelai encouraged, nodding at her daughter to continue, despite the arctic silence on the other side of the couch.

"I realised that I don't have to go to an Ivy League to be successful, or to get a good college education. All I need is my willingness to learn, my enthusiasm, and my love of books and learning. I feel like I'll be  _just_ as happy at SCSU as I was at Yale. I'm still going to college, I'm still studying Journalism, and I still plan on writing the greatest tell-all of all great tell-alls," Rory, on a roll, gripped her mother's hand tighter and continued, entirely unaware of the chill that radiated from her grandparents. Lorelai, however, knew a storm was brewing - judging by her mother's rigid position and her father's stony face - and merely rubbed her thumb across Rory's knuckles in soft encouragement.  

In fact-," Rory climbed to her feet, finally looking at her grandparents, "I'm _overjoyed_ to be going there; absolutely thrilled, beyond anything, to be attending SCSU. I've nothing against going there, and you shouldn't, too." Richard and Emily exchanged a glance, but Rory talked on, uncaring of their blasé attitude or their shocked expressions. "SCSU has all of my subjects, and I'm renting close by with two very,  _very_ good friends who don't  _care_ that I'm not going back to Yale, and-"

She fell silent as she understood the silence from her grandparents, sitting back down on the couch in a slow movement.

"If you're angry at me, you don't have to help financially. Not that I just care about that, but- if you helping me was conditional of my attending Yale, then. It'll be fine. I'll be fine. I just. I hope you'll let me keep my car, and. Friday night dinners can continue, and. And," Rory's voice wobbled, "I just want you two to be proud, and happy."

"Oh, hon, it's-"

"Happy?" Richard's voice was soft, albeit hard, "Happy? You want us to be happy?"

"Well, I," Rory took another deep breath, "Of course. I'll be happy, so I hope you'll be ha-"

"Happy?!" Richard said, again, his voice gathering strength, "You want me to be  _happy_?!"

"Dad-"

"Richard-"

"You want me to be happy that you're throwing away the chance to attend an Ivy League school?"

"Well, I-"

"You want me to be happy that you'll be wasting your intellect at some second-rate institution?"

"It's not second-rate, Grandpa, it's-"

"YOU WANT ME TO BE HAPPY THAT YOU'RE THROWING EVERYTHING AWAY?!"

Rory sat back in the chair, her eyes filling with tears. Lorelai rushed in, squeezing her daughter's hand.

"Come on, Dad, it's not like that. Please, don't think it's like that-"

"BE QUIET, LORELAI!" Richard thundered, rising to his feet, "BE QUIET! YOU NEVER ATTENDED COLLEGE! YOU DO NOT HAVE A RIGHT TO A SAY HERE!"

"Dad-" Lorelai said, her face pinching in hurt, "That's-"

"Richard, please-"

"SHUT UP, EMILY!" Richard threw his glass down, and it shattered across the coffee table. 

Emily yelped, startled, and put her hands to her mouth, staring up at her husband in dismay. Lorelai flinched, and tugged at Rory; trying at once to place her arms around her daughter, and place  _herself_ in front of her, in order to protect her. Rory, however, turned her head into her mother's shoulder, and had begun to cry quietly into the the softness of her sweater, 

"HOW DARE YOU, LORELAI GILMORE!" Richard yelled, "HOW DARE YOU!"

"Stop it!" Emily demanded, reaching up for her husband's arm. Richard, however, shook her off.

Lorelai placed her arms around her daughter and leaned away from her father; tears springing up in her own blue eyes. Rory seemed to burrow deeper into her mother. 

"HOW DARE YOU THROW YOUR TUITION BACK AT US!"

"Dad, she wasn't-" 

"WE HAVE DONE SO MUCH FOR YOU THIS YEAR, YOUNG LADY!" Richard shouted, "AND YOU TURN AROUND AND UNCEREMONIOUSLY THROW IT BACK IN OUR FACES!"

"I wasn't-" Rory protested; her voice muffled by her mother's jumper, "I swear, I wasn't-"

"WASN'T WHAT?!" Richard barked, striding across the room, "WASN'T WHAT?! WEREN'T BEING UNGRATEFUL AND SELFISH?!"

"Dad-!"

"Richard, please-!"

"THIS IS DISGRACEFUL BEHAVIOUR! AFTER EVERYTHING WE'VE DONE!"

"I'm sorry, Grandp-" Rory's eyes watered, and she sniffled. 

"GET OUT!"

"What?!" Lorelai gasped, "What did you say?!"

"RICHARD-!" Emily yelled.

"GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!"

Rory broke free of her mother and leapt to her feet, spilling her drink over the carpet; Lorelai hard on her heels as the sound of breaking glass followed them from the lounge room. A seemingly frightened Maryanne watched at they snatched their coats from the hooks and bolted through the front door, leaving it wide open; cold wind rushing through the foyer and hall. Ignoring their coats, the two women leapt into the Jeep, which Lorelei couldn't start fast enough.

 

Emily Gilmore arrived outside, just in time to see the back of the Jeep disappear down the street; tears glittering in her own eyes. 


	4. The Lorelais' First Day at Southern Connecticut State

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke, Lorelai, and Rory spend a Saturday moving Rory's furniture into the second bedroom in Paris and Doyle's New Haven apartment.

"...you still can't drive A DAMNED STICK!"

"HUSH!"

"I SHOULD BE DRIVING!"

"STOP YELLING AT ME!"

"I'M NOT YELLING AT YOU, I'M TALKING NORMALLY AT YOU!"

"THEN STOP TALKING NORMALLY AT ME! IT'S HARD TO DRIVE WHEN YOU'RE TALKING NORMALLY AT ME!"

"WELL, I'D GUESS THAT IT'S HARD TO DRIVE WHEN YOU'RE NOT REALLY DRIVING AT ALL!"

"LUKE!"

"LORELAI!"

"L U K E!"

"L O R E L A I!"

"M O M!"

"R O R Y!"

"L U K E!"

"R O R Y!"

"YOU'RE DRIVING UP ON THE FOOTPATH!"

"NO I'M NOT!"

"LUKE, SHE'S DRIVING UP ON THE FOOTPATH!"

"YOU'RE DRIVING UP ON THE FOOTPATH!"

"NO, I AM NOT!"

"STOP DRIVING UP ON THE FOOTPATH!"

"LUKE, WHY ARE YOU LETTING HER DRIVE UP ON THE FOOTPATH?!"

"I'M NOT LETTING HER DRIVE UP ON THE FOOTPATH!"

"WELL, SHE'S DRIVING UP ON THE FOOTPATH!"

"WELL, I'M NOT LETTING HER!"

"BUT SHE'S DOING IT?!"

"RORY, HE'S LETTING ME DRIVE UP ON THE FOOTPATH!"

The engine rumbled; the keys having abruptly been turned and yanked out of the ignition, and the truck shuddered to a halt, the front wheels resting comfortably on the footpath and in someone's window planter box, with dirt and flower petals and broken stems crushed beneath the mighty 4 x 4 wheels of Luke's rusted green and silver truck. The sight of her mother and Luke weaving through the narrow street had made Rory giggle madly as she'd parked a good 300 metres from the 'Danger Zone' - the parking spot directly outside the entrance to Rory's new apartment complex - and standing those safe metres away as she'd sipped her long black while watching Lorelai attempt to parallel park, reverse and straighten, and then finally barrel towards the building, as if to  _drive_ Rory's mattress and few possessions directly  _into_ the new flat had made her laugh, but watching her mother  _actually_ drive up onto the footpath had caused her to drop her coffee in shock (a damned  _waste_ ) and sprint towards the car, waving her arms in worry as she heard Lorelai and Luke arguing from the street. 

Lorelai has _i_ _nsisted_ on driving, of course: an argument between her and Luke having begun  _exactly_ at 9:45AM as they were loading the last of Rory's things - well, her  _Stars Hollow_ things, that is; having not retrieved everything from her grandparents' house in Hartford - into the back of Luke's truck, and neither of them seemed to want to yield the subject of Who Is Driving &  Who Is Riding Shotgun. The argument had lasted the two hours and fourteen minutes it had taken the three to pack and load the cars, and as they had slotted the last of the boxes beneath the trap, Luke had finally given up out of sheer  _exhaustion_ , in the end, and had grudgingly handed his keys to a jubilant Lorelai. 

"I DIDN'T LET YOU DRIVE UP ON THE FOOTPATH! YOU DROVE UP ON THE FOOTPATH YOURSELF!" Luke shouted, exiting the truck with a slam of the passenger door.

"YOU SHOULD HAVE STOPPED ME FROM DRIVING UP ON THE FOOTPATH!" Lorelai shouted back, slamming her own door. 

The two of them walked around the truck, and stood looking in disbelief at the tray with hands on hips as it jutted out into the street. There was a beat of silence, and Lorelai let out a scream of laughter, doubling over in hysterics. Luke looked despairingly from Lorelai to Rory; suddenly letting out his own snort of laughter as he turned away, trying to hide the smile that had begun creeping across his face. Rory, too, began to laugh; having followed their gazes to the front wheels of the truck as it lay amongst a gorgeously dead lump of flowers. The three of them were soon in stitches, tears welling up in their eyes as they looked at the truly horrific parking job that Lorelai had performed. 

"Th-that....is the w-worst parking job I h-have ever seen!" Lorelai gasped, her blue eyes damp with tears, "I swear to God, it's the absolute  _worst_!" 

"God, Mom, that's so bad!" Rory added, hiccoughing, "It's the  _worst_!"

"Do you even know  _how_ to drive or park?!" Luke asked, wiping his red cheeks. 

"I'm not sure I do!" Lorelai said, before dissolving into laughter again.

The three of them stood in the street, laughing and crying at the parking job. It felt so damned  _good_ to be laughing with her mother this way that Rory did not notice the looks of disbelief that stray passers-by were giving them, or the dirty looks that the occupants of the ground-floor flat were sending them as they stood at their window; curtains apart, staring at the devastation of their flower bed and back up to the perpetrators of the heinous crime. But neither Luke, Rory, nor Lorelai could see the anger or disproval - not through the tears streaming onto their cheeks.

Admittedly, Lorelai driving up  _onto_ the sidewalk was not as funny as it appeared; was definitely not as funny as Lorelai would make it seem when telling Sooki and Michel later that weekend in the kitchen of the Dragonfly (and Michel would tell her so), but ever since the disastrous dinner the week before, and both Gilmore women had been absolutely devastated by Richard's attitude, they had covered up their sadness and disappointment with preparation for Rory's move back to New Haven. Fresh linen, new pillows, and a  _separate_ mattress (Luke almost had an aneurysm when they drove up to the diner with a new mattress in his truck, lest they repeat the great matters dance of 2004) had already been delivered to Paris and Doyle's small apartment during the week (a jubilant Paris throwing her arms around Rory and not letting her go for a full 10 minutes, before switching off to Lorelai), and all that remained were the minutiae of Rory's life - books, clothes, a coconut lamp, laptop, accordion folders  - which they were now delivering, amidst driving eccentricities. The  look on Luke's face at the sight of the new mattress had sent the Gilmore's into hysterics - the side effect of the disastrous dinner - meant that now _e_ _verything_ was funny to  Lorelai and Rory. Absolutely  _everything_ , no matter how small or insignificant. The  _slightest_ chuckle would blow out into stomach-cramping laughter; the smallest giggle would leave them sobbing and hysterical. And Luke, knowing what had happened; knowing the  _heartbreak_ of the previous Friday's dinner, let them have their happiness, no matter how strange.

"Okay, I-," Luke rubbed his chin, staring down at the mess of flowers and dirt, "I should probably move the, uh. My truck."

"Okay," Lorelai sniffled, rubbing her cheeks, "We'll-"

"-get started," Rory finished, grinning over at her mother, "We'll take some stuff out before you move-"

"-the truck." Lorelai and Rory paused, staring at each other, and then back at the truck. The two of them exploded out into laughter again. Luke, shaking his head, climbed into his truck. The two women staggered over to the tray, and spent several minutes trying to pull some of the bags from the back. The joke of the morning kept them in small fits as they each took a bag of clothes and manoeuvred themselves off the narrow street. They waved to Luke, the signal that they were free of the truck, and he waved back. The engine rumbled, and very slowly; incrementally, the truck moved backwards off the sidewalk, leaving behind skid marks and crushed petals. 

"I wonder what your neighbours're gonna think," Lorelai said, nodding at the window as they started up the front stairs. Rory peered over, seeing the curtain firmly drawn shut across the window. She tried to remember the face that she had seen peering through the muslin, but couldn't bring it to mind. 

"We probably won't be friends any time soon," she said, taking Lorelei's bag as her mother opened the heavy front door; ducking past her as her mother held the door open for her. Lorelei nodded, a small smile creeping over her face again, and took the bag back. 

"No elevator?" Lorelai asked in dismay, as Rory headed towards the stairs. 

"We're three college students, Mom. We can't afford a room in a building with an  _elevator_." 

"I wouldn't have said yes to you living here if I'd known that there was no elevator," the two women were dragging the heavy bags behind them, feet thudding on the stairs, "I don't like the idea of my darling girl having to  _haul_ herself up and down the stairs seventeen times a  _day_."

"I didn't ask you if I could live here, Mom."

"Oh, that's right. I didn't even get a  _say_ as to whether you lived in this nightmare building or not."

"It'll be good for me," Rory huffed, "Besides, seventeen?"

"Dancing queen."

"Where'd you get the seventeen times a day?"

"I just estimated."

"Using  _what_?"

"The amount of times you go up and down the stairs in  _our_ house," Lorelai panted, " _God_ , did you even _check_ to see if it was stairs or an elevator?"

"No."

"Oh, Rory. It seems that switching schools has made you stupider already."

"Mom!"

"What floor are you on, anyway?"

"Third."

Lorelai stopped in her tracks. 

"Third?!"

"Third."

"The third?!"

"The third."

"The third floor?!"

"The third floor, Mother Dearest," Rory looked back at her mother, "Now, hurry up."

"I can't believe this," Lorelai grumbled, "Or you."

"It's not that bad."

"You have a mattress to move up here! And about thirty  _million_ books! And the rest of your clothes!" Lorelai was outraged, dragging the bag with two hands as she followed Rory up the stairs, "Plus, groceries! And all of your textbooks! And a keg-"

"A keg?" Rory was confused, "I thought my wild party days were over?"

"We've agreed that maritime theft is out of the question, Rory, but I didn't think we were drawing a moratorium over  _all_ forms of partying."

"Keg it is."

"No! No keg!"

"You just said-"

"But you'd have to drag it up these stairs!" Lorelai complained, "The keg is  _out_ of the question!"

"Guess I'll have to settle for wine."

" _God,_ no." Lorelai shook her head, "I'm not letting you become one of  _those_ people."

"Which people?"

" _Wine_ people."

"Of, of course.  _Those_ people."

" _It's a 1470 shiraz cabernet merlot and I'm detecting a hint of bread and dripping and bits of green paint_ -" Lorelai imitated; pitching her voice high. 

"- _and corrugated iron_ ," Rory continued, her own voice soaring. 

The two women began to giggle again, and had soon dissolved back into laughter. Trying to drag their bags, manoeuvre the stairs, and giggle was too much for them to handle, and they were soon slumped against the railing, their sides heaving. They didn't know how hard they were laughing, or just how  _loud_ their laughter was; completely missing the sound of footsteps that were headed down the stairs, and as they wiped away fresh tears, were surprised by a confused and concerned Paris and Doyle, who had heard them laughing from the floor above,  _inside_ their apartment. 

"Are they okay?" Doyle asked, deferring to Paris.

"Probably," Paris answered, watching Lorelai rest her head on her knees, "They're usually like this, when they're together."

"Do they laugh that loud?" Doyle asked, picking up Rory's discarded bag and hoisting it over his shoulder.

"Yes, when they're together," Paris answered, again; picking up the bag that Lorelai was carrying and heaving it up. 

"Do we wanna know what's so funny?"

"Probably not." 

"D'you think they'll explain it?"

"Let's hope not."

Paris and Doyle, with Rory's luggage in hand, made their way back up the stairs and towards the new apartment. Lorelai had wanted to thank them both; had wanted to explain the joke, but was unable to contain the laughter that bounced off the walls and echoed in the narrow stairwell. Rory, too, had wanted to explain the hilarity, but couldn't make herself stop laughing. They both hoped that no one else could  _actually_ hear them, nor was their laughter as loud as it appeared. They hadn't wanted to be so loud, but like the mattress debacle and the horrendous truck driving incident, were unable to stop laughing once they had begun. And it was there, slumped against the wall and over each other, did Luke - bearing several bags - find them. 

"What is it now?"

" _Wine_ -" was all that came out of Rory's mouth before two started laughing again. 

To Luke, however, it sounded like  _why_ _?_

"Well, you're both kinda loud-"

" _Wine_ -"

"-really loud," Luke shook his head, and hefted the bags up, "I could hear you downstairs."

"No, _wine_ -"

"Because you're cackling like a pair of crazy old broads at a wedding, is  _why_ -"

"Luke-," Lorelai gasped out.

"-wine," Rory added. 

"...wine?" Luke was thoroughly confused. 

"It doesn't really have bread in it."

"I should hope not," Luke said, abandoning the bags and  reaching out to lift Lorelai to her feet, "It'd probably ruin the vintage."

"Vintage," Lorelai snorted.

They giggled, again, and Luke waited patiently. 

"So-"

"Upstairs?"

"Yes, let's."

 

* * *

 "This is nice," Luke commented, glancing around the room. "It's, uh. You know."

"Nice!" Lorelai butt in, indicating the room at large.

"Right, yeah."

"And, uh. Cozy."

"Cozy!" Luke gestured happily, "Of course! Cozy is. This room." 

"Oh, yeah," Lorelai nodded, "You'll be right as rain in the winter."

"You won't need to put the heating on-" Luke pointed out, "Which'll-"

"Right-!" Lorelai chimed in, "Which will be, uh, good for, uh ... keeping money!"

"You won't spend so much on heating!" Luke added, "More for food! You like food-"

 "Plus, uh-"

"The room is small," Rory said, simply. 

"Damned small."

" _Freakishly_ small."

"But it's okay," Rory nodded, "It's what I want. I want small. And little. And not so big."

"And this room is all of those things," Luke clapped his hands, "So that's really good."

"I have to start small, right?" Rory looked around the room, which contained a desk, a mattress, and not much else. "New beginnings, and all that."

"It's a metaphor!" Lorelai said, "Of course! Beginning anew, and growing, and, and-"

At a loss for words, Lorelai nudged Luke, who rushed to fill the gap.

"-coming out of a, uh, shell, and-" He scratched his head, "Re-birth?"

"Eww."

"What?"

"That's-no. Not that."

"Yes, that."

"No, that's not right."

"What's wrong with it? It's good. It fits."

"Yeah but, no. It's not-" Lorelai winced, "It's not really. Good."

 "Okay, so, what?"

"What what?"

"What should I say?"

"Nothing involving  _birth_ , please."

"I'm going down to the truck."

"Thanks, Luke," Rory said, kindly, "I'm grateful for your help. And for the truck. Again."

"You're welcome, Rory," Luke replied, wildly ecstatic that she was back at school, and looking happier than she had in years. "I'll just get the rest of the bags."

"Thanks, babe," Lorelai said, pressing a kiss to his cheek, "I'll be down soon."

"Nah, you stay here," Luke said, stepping back into the hall of the apartment. Lorelai and Rory followed him, and stood in the small lounge room.

"How is it?" Paris asked, from her perch on the lounge chair.

"Small," Lorelai said, and Rory nudged her.

"It's fine, Paris. And thank you. Thank you for letting me move in."

"Just like last year, before all that unpleasantness," Paris replied, happily.

"Need a hand?" Lorelai asked Luke, and he shook his head in the negative.

"No, it'll be fine, " Luke spotted Doyle, ironing tea towels, and gestured to him, "Maybe I'll get a hand from, uh-?"

"Doyle," said Doyle, placing the iron upright on the board, "And, sure. I can help."

"Don't lift anything too heavy, though," Paris warned, "You don't want to get a hernia again."

"Again-?" Lorelai whispered, glancing at Rory, who merely shuddered.

"It _wasn't_ a hernia," Doyle said, quickly, "But, sure, I'll be careful."

Luke and Doyle - leaving his ironing - left the apartment, and closed the door behind them. 

"Wanna start setting things up?" Lorelai asked, and Rory nodded.

"Sure, but let me change first, okay?" Rory gestured to her pullover, "I'm feeling a little sticky."

"Just like your new floor-" Lorelai grinned at Rory as she flashed her a look of annoyance, and disappeared behind her bedroom door. 

"She's back."

Lorelai turned back to Paris, who had risen to her knees; hands clasped in her lap in happiness. 

"Our girl is _back_."

"Yeah, she is."

"She's really back, Lorelai," Paris jumped to her feet, "She's back in school, and she's living here with Doyle and me. It's so fantastic that she took the room. This way, we can keep an eye on her, and make sure that she's not seeing that jerk Logan, and-"

"She's not seeing Logan anymore?" Lorelai interrupted, surprised. 

"I just assumed-" Paris paused, frowning up at Lorelai, "Wait, she's still-?"

"I mean, I don't-"

"Is she still seeing him?" Paris demanded.

"Paris, I don't-"

"She'd better not still be seeing him," Paris snapped, "After EVERYTHING he did to her! After he took so long to be a decent guy, and then-"

The door opened, and Rory wandered into the lounge room.

"-and then he doesn't even try to help her! Doesn't even try to get her back on track, or tell her that she's being-"

"What?" 

Lorelai and Paris jumped, surprised.

"He didn't even what?"

"Rory, I-"

"Are you still seeing Logan?" Paris asked, sharply.

"Excuse me?"

"Are you still seeing Logan?" she repeated.

"Paris, that's not-"

"Are you dating? Still going steady?"

"-really any of your business," Rory said, quietly. 

She turned to Lorelai.

"So, should we-"

"Yeah, let's get unpacking."

"I'm sorry, Rory, I just-," Paris hesitated, "I just want to make sure you're okay."

"I know," Rory said, "Thank-you."

Paris and Rory had a quick hug, and Paris returned to Doyle's ironing. Lorelai and Rory wandered back down the hall into her new room, and Rory closed the door behind her mother. Though Luke and Lorelai were having a joke about how small the room was, it wasn't unpleasant. Yes, the wallpaper was fading, and the window latch was stuck and needed quite a lot of force to actually open. Rory's pink carpet, though slightly faded, covered the worn floorboards, and hit the more unsightly scratches in the wood. With boxes of books stacked on the desk, and the rest of her clothes piled on the bed, there was little room to manoeuvre. 

"Okay, I think we should start with my cupboard," Rory began, indicating to the wardrobe. "If you start with the pile here, I'll move-"

"Are you, though?" Lorelai asked, interrupting her.

"Wh-? Am I what?"

"Are you still seeing Logan?" Lorelai repeated.

Rory was silent, biting her bottom lip. 

"No judgement, no criticism, no nothin'," Lorelai took a deep breath, "I just want to know what you're thinking."

"I don't know," Rory admitted, sitting down on her bed, "I. Don't know. I dunno."

"Okay, so. You don't know," Lorelai iterated, "That's okay. That's, well. It IS something."

"Yeah, I just," Rory shrugged, picking at the hem of a discarded shirt, "I don't know."

"Do you still wanna date him, or-?"

"I don't know, Mom. I really just don't know."

"Have you thought about it?"

"Not really," Rory shook her head, "I mean, yes, I have. But, no. I haven't."

"You have and you haven't." Lorelai considered this, "But I take it you're really thinking about where you're both at?"

"I just- I've been thinking about  _so many_ things, and. Logan is one of them. I don't really know if what we had, or have, is really good for me."

"Oh, wow," Lorelai exhaled, heavily, "That's a lot. That's really. A _lot_."

"Just don't-"

"Hmm?"

"Just. Please don't pretend that. That I'm alone in this introspection."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean-," Rory exhaled, sat up straight, and looked her mother in the eye, "I know that you weren't really happy with me dating Logan, and you certainly  _weren't_ happy about the yacht thing, but. I don't want you to pretend that it's my choice here.; that I'm the only one who thinks that re-thinking my relationship with Logan is a good idea. I just - want you to be honest with me."

 "Of course I will be, babe, and I'm not going to insult you by pretending that I'm  _not_ happy with you re-thinking things," Lorelai admitted, "Not just Logan things, but school things, too. And I want you to be happy, of course, but. I also want you to be safe. And I want you to be comfortable. And I want you to be with someone who makes you happy, and-"

"I know that, and I  _totally_ understand you," Rory continued, "I just don't want you to think I'm only re-thinking things because you want me to. I need to re-think things because I  _know_ I have to re-think things."

"I know, for a fact, that I couldn't force you into anything you didn't want," Lorelai said, "Like going back to Yale, for instance."

Rory cracked a smile, and threw her jumper at Lorelai; catching her mother in the face. Lorelai laughed, balling it up and throwing it back. 

"I just," Rory sighed, "I'm not sure I want to see him yet. If I did, I don't really know what I'd say," Rory paused, hands in her lap, "What should I  say?"

"I can't tell you that."

"I know. I'm just asking."

"For now, however, I say - let's get some pizza," Lorelai stood up, "And we can continue this later, okay?"

"Okay."


End file.
